


Collared

by quillingyousoftly



Series: MCU Kink Bingo fills [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Childhood Trauma, Collars, Dom Brock Rumlow, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Gentle Dom Brock Rumlow, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Sub Jack Rollins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillingyousoftly/pseuds/quillingyousoftly
Summary: Jack pushed the fear away and said yes, imagining a thin, tasteful leather collar that might feel snug but not oppressive. He did not expect metal.
Relationships: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow
Series: MCU Kink Bingo fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626025
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo, MCU Kink Bingo Round 4





	Collared

**Author's Note:**

> I keep forgetting to add this info on here too 😂 Bondage equipment: collar square for mcu kink bingo and Collared and Chained for bad things happen.

Jack stares at the collar presented to him. 

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, sir," Jack finds himself saying.

There's an undefined fear in the back of his mind of it being an automated response; he's not sure if it comes from Brock being his superior at work or the fact that he never, ever wants to say no to him.

But there's another kind of fear winning his attention that seems to consume all of his body, turning it numb, as he stares at the metal chain in Brock's hands. When Brock asked three weeks ago if he'd like to try wearing a collar, that fear peeked out its ugly head and brought up flashes of memories he had worked hard on burying on the bottom of his mind. Jack pushed the fear away and said yes, imagining a thin, tasteful leather collar that might feel snug but not oppressive. He did not expect metal.

The metal chain closes around his neck before Jack even thinks about blurting out the safeword. It's heavy and tight and digging into his throat, and although Jack opens his mouth to try and say the safeword, he can't quite remember what it was. He can't quite remember any word, or his name, or how to breathe.

He feels a hand in his hair tilting his head up and the chain pulling against his throat. The world grows dark, and it's not just the collar anymore; a chain stretches from his neck to the basement wall, just long enough to reach the telephone, but it's so heavy, and he's so small. The portrait of his father is hanging above the telephone, and he remembers his words,  _ Daddy's listening, daddy will let you out, just gotta be a good boy. _

The chain comes loose around his neck, and he sucks in a breath. The one he lets out is shaky, and when he blinks the darkness away, he realizes his eyes are wet. There's no portrait of his father, just Brock kneeling in front of him, holding his face in his hands, wiping his cheeks with his thumbs, and watching him with eyes big and scared. 

"Baby, what's wrong?" he's asking.

Jack realizes he's been asking for a while, but he can't bring himself to answer, and breathing becomes a struggle again. He scared Brock, he made him kneel, he can't answer his question, and he's a bad boy again...

"It's okay, baby," Brock says softly. "You're okay, you don't need to talk, just breathe, alright? Breathe with me."

Slowly, the air becomes easier to catch even as Jack's lungs burn, and they breathe together, each time slower and steadier. Brock even counts them for him, and soon Jack relaxes enough that he starts to feel stupid. A dumb collar made him freak out...

Brock's holding him close now, letting his head rest against his shoulder and petting his hair and the back of his neck. Jack's content to stare ahead and watch his t-shirt wrinkle.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened now?"

It's a soft question and not a veiled order, so Jack truthfully shakes his head. "It's stupid, really. I'm sorry," he says, his voice a little rough, and he clears his throat.

Brock leaves his side only for a moment to bring him a glass of water, then settles back on the floor of their bedroom with his back resting against the footboard. 

"I seriously doubt it's stupid," Brock says as Jack takes a careful sip. It does nothing to clear the bitter taste from his mouth, but at least it doesn't feel so dry. "But we don't have to talk about this now. We can do something else. Wanna watch something?"

Jack thinks what he should do is to make it up to Brock, but what he really wants to do is to spend the rest of the night in the safety and comfort of his arms. "Does watching something involve cuddling on the couch?"

Brock grins, his fingers going back to Jack’s head to rub his scalp. It makes Jack's lips twitch into a small smile.

"Sure. Let's go."

Brock helps him get up, wraps him in a robe, and leads him to the living room, leaving the collar behind and forgotten on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I've wanted to write since I got my BTHB card, but it's also the kind you avoid writing. Then it turned out to be this short. Oh well.
> 
> "Delirium" is the kind of movie that just stays with you.


End file.
